


Nicotine Hit

by FestiveFerret



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: But Not Much, Cravings, Don't Read This If You're Trying to Quit, Get Together, M/M, Secret Smoke Breaks, Senses: Smell, Steve Has a Filthy Habit, The Jacket, Then Tony Gives Him Another One, Virgin Steve, porn with a bit of plot, sexy smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-12
Updated: 2017-09-12
Packaged: 2018-12-27 07:39:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12076557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FestiveFerret/pseuds/FestiveFerret
Summary: Some cravings become impossible to ignore.





	Nicotine Hit

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to NotebookishType for the beta!
> 
> Don't smoke, kids! :P

With a final twist of his screwdriver, Tony locked the last plate in place and leaned back to admire his work. It was only the painful numbness in his toes that let him know how long he’d been working. He stood and flexed them out, wincing as the blood tingled its way back into his foot. A shiver wriggled up his spine, and he realized that the numbness was from more than the awkward position. He grabbed a blanket from the back of his workshop couch and wrapped it around his shoulders. “JARVIS, can you bring it up a few degrees?” He shuffled off towards the elevator, the hum of the furnace kicking in, JARVIS’ only response. His phone told him it was 6:37am. Tony had been up all night.

The elevator let him off into the vast common space that opened out onto the landing pad. He poked at the coffee maker, yawning, until it started hissing and burbling and the kitchen filled with the smell of sweet ambrosia. Now that he was a little more conscious, he noticed there was something odd about the light in the room. He walked over towards the side window and realized little flakes of white were whipping around the tower: snow. Though the sun was barely half-risen, the white of the snow cast an eerie, sleepy glow over the city.

Movement caught his eye and Tony turned, facing the long bank of glass that opened out onto the landing pad. Someone was out there. Tony moved along the wall until the figure came into view. Steve sat on the small side balcony that had been built next to the landing pad. He leaned back in a hideous plastic lawn chair that Tony certainly did not buy, his long legs stretched out so his heels could catch the edge of the railing. He was only in jeans and a light jacket, but despite the nip in the air, his posture was easy and relaxed.

And he was smoking.

The cigarette dangled from between two fingers of his right hand which hung lazily over the arm of the chair. He was turned away from Tony, to his left and out towards the city. Every now and then he’d bring the cigarette to his lips, the insides of his fingers brushing against his mouth, breathe deep, then blow a stream of stark white smoke into the chilly air.

Tony thought he’d caught a hint of cigarette smoke a few times since the team had moved in, but it never crossed his mind it might be Steve. He had wondered who it was, so easily sucked in by a puzzle, and now his little mystery was solved, but he barely gave it any thought, entranced by the sight in front of him. Steve looked completely relaxed and easy, in a way Tony had never seen him before. His body was limp in the chair, head lolled back and shoulders soft. He was nothing but _Steve_ in this moment, and Tony couldn’t pull his eyes away.

He stood, coffee forgotten, and watched while Steve worked his way through the whole cigarette. When it was done, Steve extinguished the butt in a small ashtray he had rested on his stomach and dropped his feet to the floor. Tony scurried away into the kitchen, tucking himself into a dark corner behind the wall. A moment later he heard the door slide open, then Steve’s footsteps as he crossed the room towards the elevator. A wake of bitter cigarette smoke mixed with the crisp smell of snow wafted along behind him, then dissipated too soon.

Tony grabbed his coffee mug and tripped out onto the balcony Steve had just vacated. He breathed in deep, triggering a staggering series of sense memories. Getting drunk at MIT and bumming a smoke off a student who was actually old enough to buy them, sneaking out of SI, black tie, gala events to unclench his smile-locked teeth with a nicotine hit, the rich, dark rush of a cigar after a wedding, splitting a cigarette with Pepper on the back deck of the Malibu mansion because she “didn’t smoke” but couldn’t stand to watch him do it without taking a drag herself. He’d started out as someone who bummed a cigarette every time he got drunk and too quickly turned into someone who was drunk often enough that he started buying a pack a few times a week. On his thirty-second birthday, he’d nearly coughed up a lung and vowed to quit, though he only really stopped completely after Afghanistan.

Tony stood there long enough that he started shivering again and had to hustle inside and grab a second, fresh cup of coffee to banish the chill. As he left the balcony, he filed away the knowledge that Steve had carefully left no sign he had been there besides the rapidly disappearing scent of smoke. Steve was clearly hiding his little cigarette breaks and doing a good job of it too. What were the odds that Captain America, paragon of patriotic virtue, was the one with the nasty habit?

Now that he knew, now that he was watching, Tony began to see the signs. Steve always smoked first thing in the morning, and, as far as Tony could tell, never took breaks throughout the day. But if you caught him between 5 and 6 in the morning there was always the barest hint of smoke on his clothes and breath. Once, Tony had managed to “bump into” Steve going back up to his floor after his time on the balcony. Steve leaned on the far wall of the elevator, offering Tony a nod, then dropping his eyes to his phone. His other hand was hidden behind his thigh, but Tony caught a glimpse of the ashtray tucked in his fingers. Tony smiled to himself, pretending to be absorbed in a report he was reading while he tried to subtly breathe in the tantalizing aura Steve carried with him.

Steve wore what Tony had dubbed in his head “The Smoking Jacket.” It was a mid-weight, brown, leather jacket, with a collar and a zipper front. The only times Tony had seen Steve in it was the first time he caught him on the balcony, and this time in the elevator. It was clearly one of the ways Steve kept the smell off his other clothes, putting it on to go smoke, then taking it off and leaving it somewhere in his room.

Tony became slightly obsessed with The Jacket.

He looked for it, but never found it. Steve never left it in the shared closets, or forgot it draped over a chair. Even an early morning Assemble had seen Steve trotting out onto the landing pad, fully suited and clean smelling. Tony wanted to know what the jacket would smell like. His parents had owned this cabin in Vermont when Tony was a kid, and they almost never went there, but once, when he was about ten, they’d let the Jarvis’s and Tony’s nanny at the time take him to the cabin to keep him out of their hair while they did some renovations on the house during school break. It was woodsy and musty and Jarvis smoked these dark, rich cigars on the porch. Tony thought the jacket probably smelled like the cabin. He hadn’t been back since that time, never even bothered to check if it had been part of his inheritance, but the memory kept springing into his mind whenever he saw Steve these days.

The idea of Steve smoking in secret wormed its way into Tony’s brain and wouldn’t let go. It was the worst kind of craving, vague and misdirected, because it came in the shape of Steve instead of the nicotine hit he knew he really wanted. He associated Steve with the ritual of smoking and it got so bad he couldn’t look at the man without starting to feel antsy and wound up.

It came to a head one afternoon when Tony, Nat, and Steve had all managed to bump into each other on the common floor. Instead of scurrying off to his workshop, Tony decided to read his journals on his tablet, stretched out on the couch, and Nat and Steve settled to a game of cards nearby. He could hear Steve’s voice as he and Nat chatted over their game, and while it wasn’t, he imagined it to be scratchy and smoke-worn. If he tipped his head back and breathed in as deeply as possible, he thought there was the hint of something sharp in the air. And every time he lifted his eyes from his tablet, they fell on the door to the balcony, and the empty plastic chair that sat there, waiting.

He bolted from the room and made it through the next few hours on an engineering binge, but as the sun started to come up, he couldn’t take it anymore. The barest hint of the smell, the memories it brought with it, the relaxed smile he’d seen on Steve’s face afterwards; Tony needed a cigarette, and he needed one now. “JARVIS, do I have a pack of smokes in this place?”

As a matter of fact, he did. He’d bought a pack after the Chitauri thinking he might need one post inevitable nightmare, but having the Avengers living all around him in the tower had actually let him sleep pretty soundly, despite what he’d seen. So the pack had remained unopened, until now.

Tony pushed out onto Steve’s balcony and fumbled the wrapper off the package. The clean, white paper felt right in his hands. The click of the lighter shot him back a hundred years to leaning half-out of his dorm room window in the dark of winter, sneaking one in before the RA did his rounds.

The first hit burned its way down Tony’s throat, making him cough, but as soon as it filled his lungs, his head spun pleasantly. It was rough, after so long, but it was also deeply satisfying. His lungs, which always felt bruised - like they were pressing awkwardly against the edges of the arc reactor casing - felt newly expanded and full in a way they hadn’t since his accident. He breathed out through pursed lips and watched the white smoke break the dark sky, then float away.

And, god, _the smell._ Finally. After months of teasing hints he breathed it in fully, and a long, low ache in his core relaxed for the first time in years. He took another long pull, revelling in the hot scratch along his throat and the lightheaded euphoria of the nicotine hitting his bloodstream. He wouldn’t start the habit again - he knew it was worse than bad for him - but damn did it feel good to have this one.

“Got a light?”

Tony startled up from the railing, heart pounding. He spun and there was Steve, leaning back against the wall, arms crossed, eyebrows raised. Of course. Whether subconsciously or by mistake, Tony had chosen the exact time he knew Steve would be likely to come out himself. Tony smacked a hand against his chest, over the sharp edge of the arc reactor and tried to calm the rush of adrenaline that had nearly called the armour to him. “Holy shit, Rogers, make some noise, would ya?”

Steve chuckled. He pushed off the wall and walked across the balcony, eyeing Tony with amusement coupled with confusion. “I didn’t think you smoked.”

“I don’t. Not anymore.” Tony waved his cigarette at Steve. “But someone keeps stinking up the balcony and wafting around in a cloud of nicotine and it’s distracting as fuck.”

Steve went deathly pale and the smile dropped off his face and shattered on the floor. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I didn’t think it was that obvious. I didn’t mean to bother anyone. Shit. I’m so sorry, Tony. I’ll stop.”

“Steve. It’s fine.” He peered into Steve’s face, trying to read the reason for the concern in his expression. “It’s your house too, you’re allowed to smoke.”

“But you quit, and it’s my fault you’ve started again. That’s awful.” His face crumpled as he stared at the curl of smoke wisping up between Tony’s fingers.

“Hey, now. It’s alright. I haven’t started again. Just one last hurrah, you know how it is. I keep a pack in my sock drawer and have two a year when I miss it. You didn’t ruin anything. Besides, even if I did start again, it still wouldn’t be your fault. I’m a grown-ass man. Mostly.”

Steve leaned his elbows on the railing and gazed down at the city far below. “I guess. I just know it’s an awful habit, and it would kill me if my lack of self-control caused problems for someone else. Y- you especially,” he added with uncertainty.

“Uh, well thanks, Cap, I guess. But it’s fine, really. Is it even a bad habit for you? I mean the serum…?”

“Yeah. It can’t hurt me. Guess that’s why I never bothered to quit. I couldn’t smoke at all before the serum - asthma - but in the army...” He shrugged. “Everyone did. I can’t really get addicted - the nicotine doesn’t affect me much - but I like the action of it. It’s calming. An excuse for some alone time.” He took a step back as if his words had come with a realization. “Which is probably what you were looking for. Sorry. I’ll leave you be.”

Tony reached out and grabbed his sleeve. “No. Wait.” Steve stopped and Tony let his shirt go. He held out his remaining half-cigarette towards Steve. “You’d better finish this. You know, save me from myself.” He had no idea why he said that, but all he knew was that he didn’t want Steve to go. There was something hanging in the air between them and he couldn’t bear to see it broken.

Steve’s eyes went wide, but he reached out and plucked the cigarette from Tony’s fingers; the warmth of his skin brushed over Tony’s knuckles. Tony couldn’t help but watch, entranced, as Steve’s lips wrapped around the paper. The tip glowed orange as he sucked in. Steve pulled it away and breathed out slowly, turning away as the smoke billowed up around his face. They were quiet for several minutes, Steve’s eyes fixed on the skyline, Tony’s eyes flickering from the clouds over to Steve, every time he took another drag.

When Steve broke the silence, his voice was low, pained. “Tony, there’s something I’ve wanted to tell you for a long time, but it’s - it’s hard to say.” He flicked his ash into the air and the wind whipped it away and tore it apart.

Tony’s heart stuttered in his chest. _I’m leaving the Avengers. I’m not happy in New York. I think you should leave the team. This isn’t working. I think you should give Iron Man to someone stronger._ Tony’s mind ripped through a hundred different horrible things Steve might be gearing up to say. Tony wanted to say, _No, don’t say it, stay like this,_ but instead he said, “Rip the bandaid off.”

Steve turned to face Tony, eyes heavy with something undefinable. He huffed a breath out of his nose with a cloud of dragon’s breath smoke. Tony couldn’t help but lean in and suck it back into his own lungs. It tickled the inside of his nose, sweet and warm. Tony braced himself, trying to sink into the nicotine calm to help ease the pain of whatever was coming next.

“I’m… struggling… with an, uh, attraction,” Steve stammered out. Tony blinked in surprise. That was… not one of the horrible things he was expecting. And yet, it was still kind of horrible. Steve was going to ask him, of all people, for modern dating advice? Tony, who spent his 20s and 30s sleeping with all of New York, yet hadn’t had more than his hand to keep him company since Afghanistan. Plus, the thought of helping Steve woo someone was kind of… uncomfortable.

“Not sure I’m the right person to talk to about that,” Tony said with a humourless laugh.

Steve gaped at him. “No, I’m - no, it’s you.”

“Really, I don’t have any great wisdom. I’ve done it both ways - cold bed and warm - well, more like searing hot bed, actually - and I’ve been awful at both, so yeah.”

“No, Tony. You don’t understand. _It’s you.”_

Tony stilled. “What’s me?”

“The, uh, the person. That I… am…” Steve trailed off, chewing at his lip. He dropped his eyes to the slate tiles under their feet and took a long, heavy pull on the dwindling cigarette, holding it for a moment, then letting the smoke drift out of his throat teasingly slowly.

Tony watched him, stunned. That was. Oh. “Why?”

Steve’s eyes finally met his. They were pinched around the edges, nervous, unhappy. “I don’t know. Can people normally control that kind of thing? I just… yeah.”

They stared at each other in silence for a long time. Too long. “Sorry. I’m having some trouble processing this. I’m the one you’re attracted to? And it’s, uh, a struggle? You don’t want to be.”

“What? No! It’s not that _I_ don’t - Well, I - _fuck.”_ Steve scrubbed his hand over his face and Tony couldn’t help but laugh.

“You kiss your mother with that mouth, Rogers?”

“No.” Steve took a deep breath. “But I’d very much like to kiss you with it.”

Tony opened and closed his mouth a few times. “Really?”

Steve nodded.

“Like, right now?” Tony took a step forward, and Steve’s face twisted from pained to panicked.

“What? You want to? I - I thought you wouldn’t… You’ve never…” Steve’s eyes darted over Tony’s face, getting caught on their second pass over his lips and sticking there. Tony did want, though. In fact, the only thing that would be hotter between Steve’s lips right now, than a burning cigarette was Tony’s tongue.

Tony stepped forward again, so close they could lean in and press their chests together. Tony slid his fingers around Steve’s wrist and he lifted, bringing the hand that still held the remains of the cigarette to Tony’s face. Without shifting his eyes from Steve’s face, he tucked the end of the cigarette between his lips and breathed in. His lips brushed the inside of Steve’s fingers and Tony watched as Steve’s throat bobbed and his jaw worked. Tony pursed his lips and blew out a tight stream of smoke, to the side, not wanting to obscure his view of Steve’s face. He flicked away the butt and wove his fingers between Steve’s instead.

Steve was frozen in place until Tony gave a little tug on his hand. Steve’s fingers tightened around his and he leaned in, bringing their faces mere inches apart. “Tony…” he whispered.

“Kiss me,” Tony urged, pressing even closer, but leaving the last breath between them up to Steve to take.

He took it. Warm lips met Tony’s, less hesitant, and more eager than Tony expected. Excitement curled through his belly, flying him higher than the jolt of nicotine ever had. He ran his tongue along Steve’s lips and they parted, letting Tony slip between. Steve’s mouth was lined with the taste of their shared cigarette and it suddenly felt deeply intimate, knowing Steve could taste the same thing on his tongue.

A giddy desperation seemed to hit them both at the same time, and Steve dropped Tony’s hand so he could wrap both arms around his waist. With one hand, Tony grabbed a fistful of Steve’s shirt, over his stomach, while the other clung to his bicep. He felt nothing but the searing heat of Steve from top to bottom, tingling against his skin, and pushing a chemical rush through his veins. His fingers clenched in the soft fabric, wanting Steve closer, but knowing it wasn’t possible; they were already as close as they could be.

Steve staggered backwards, taking Tony with him, until his back hit the wall of the tower. Tony used the new leverage to jam his thigh between Steve’s legs and roll his hips. Steve gasped into Tony’s mouth, and he breathed it in, pulling the sound into his lungs to replace the burn of the smoke.

“Don't…” Steve murmured against Tony’s lips.

Tony stilled. “Don’t what?” It came out as a breathy pant. He couldn’t tell if that had been a “don’t stop” or “don’t do that.”

Steve’s fingers clenched around Tony’s waist, holding him close. “No I - I just. I’ve been trying to figure out what this was for months now. If it was just a passing attraction or… That’s why I’ve been smoking so much lately, I’m sure. Being around you and feeling this way has been…”

“Hard?” Tony shot him a cheeky grin, eyes flicking up under his eyelashes.

Steve grinned, but shook his head in affectionate exasperation. “Right.”

“And?” Tony prompted.

“It’s more. It’s not just that.” Steve’s arms tensed. “Not just sex I mean. I - I like you. I’m not - I can’t - I don’t want you to do this if it’s just…this. For you.”

A flash of panic rocketed through Tony’s gut. What if he wasn’t sure? He opened his mouth, eyes scanning Steve’s face, looking for an answer there. The one he got surprised him. Steve’s face fell the longer it took Tony to answer, and in that moment, Tony knew without a shadow of a doubt that he never wanted to be the cause of that look on Steve’s face again. He didn’t only want to run his hands up under Steve’s shirt, nip at his lips again, rut against his thigh; he wanted more. He wanted to make Steve happy. The panic leapt and twisted and turned into nervous anticipation.

“It’s not just sex.” Tony said, the thoughts clarifying into certainty as he spoke. “I hadn’t thought about it. You definitely surprised me. But now, it’s like, how did I never think of this before? You and me, if makes sense, right?”

A glowing smile bloomed across Steve’s face and that, that was the look Tony wanted to be responsible for. “Are you sure? I don’t want to push you into anything.”

“Well.” Tony took a moment to think. “I can’t make any promises, but I definitely want to try. I think we could be fucking incredible together.”

Steve hauled him in again, pulling Tony nearly up onto his toes and hooking one hand around the back of his neck to bring their mouths together again. It was hot and needy, but with a thread of anticipation wound through it now, not the anticipation of sex, but of something frighteningly more. Something soft and warm and togethery that Tony wanted to simultaneously run from, and wrap around himself like a plush blanket.

Steve was wearing The Jacket and when he dropped his face to Tony’s neck to kiss and nibble his way behind his ear, Tony buried his face in the collar of the jacket and finally breathed in. It smelled like smoke, and leather, and Steve’s deodorant. Nothing like the cabin, it was a hundred times better. It was his favourite piece of fabric in the whole world.

Steve licked his way along Tony’s jaw line, and he saw stars. “It is a little bit though, right?” Tony asked, trapping a groan behind his teeth.

“A little bit what?” Steve muttered, focused on Tony’s neck.

“A little bit about sex? As in, we can have some?”

Steve pulled back. His eyes were dark and two spots of colour lit up his cheeks. “Uh, yeah. Yes please.”

Tony grinned. “Good.” His hands fell to the waistband of Steve’s jeans, and Steve’s head cracked against the wall as his eyes fell shut.

“Oh my god.”

“Is this okay?” Tony asked gently.

“Yeah, of course. I’m just having one of those, ‘is this reality?’ moments.”

Tony chuckled, then took advantage of Steve’s bared neck to drop his mouth to the soft stretch of skin that peeked out of Steve’s collar. Meanwhile, his hands pulled at Steve’s jeans until he had them undone.

“What are you - _holy shit.”_ Steve gasped out as Tony dropped to his knees. Steve’s hands snapped to Tony’s head, furrowing in his hair, gripping and releasing the strands. Tony made short work of Steve’s clothes, now that he had his eyes on the prize. He pulled Steve’s cock out and the weight in his hand made his mouth water, wanting to taste him. Tony buried his face against Steve’s stomach for a moment, breathing in the musky scent of him, mixed with the pervasive nip of cigarette smoke that hung between them. He pulled back, letting the tip of his tongue flick out and brush along the shaft. Steve’s breathing stuttered above him.

Tony sucked air through his nose, then wrapped his lips around Steve’s cock and slid down until his nose touched the curl of hair at the base. Was he showing off? Yes. Was it worth it to hear the half-swear, half-moan, all sob that ripped its way out of Steve’s throat? Abso-fucking-lutely. Tony pulled back, running the flat of his tongue over the head of Steve’s cock, lapping up the bead of precum that had formed on the slit. He hooked his fingers in Steve’s belt loops and sucked him down again, building a rhythm and working up a slick slide of spit that dripped down his chin. He was painfully hard and rubbing against the tight fabric of his pants, but Tony didn’t dare drop a hand to his lap to take care of it, needing both hands on Steve to keep him from floating away completely. He was lightheaded in the most amazing way, spinning but not dizzy. Steve’s cock in his mouth would forever be his drug of choice from now on.

Steve’s hips kicked forward the tiniest amount, and Tony smiled around his cock, knowing Steve wanted to push forward into the sensation, fuck Tony’s mouth. His eyes flicked up, and Steve was gazing down at him. Tony blinked slow and languid and pulled back, then pushed forward until the head of Steve’s cock hit the back of his throat.

“Fuck,” Steve hissed out, thighs trembling. Then, he was pulling Tony back, tugging on his hair, guiding him back to his feet. “That’s - I need - please.”

“Yeah good plan,” Tony said, making Steve laugh even as he ground his dripping erection roughly against Tony’s thigh and groaned. Tony grabbed Steve’s arm and guided him back inside. They needed a bed and lube and some kind of Do Not Disturb on Pain of Death sign for the door.

“You’re very good at that,” Steve mumbled against his lips as they tumbled towards the elevator.

“What can I say?” Tony used two handfuls of The Jacket to pull Steve bodily against him as the elevator doors slid shut. “I have a bit of an oral fixation.”

Steve attacked Tony’s clothes with vigour, and by the time the elevator reached the penthouse, Tony’s shirt and pants were on the floor along with Steve’s jeans. When the doors sprung open, Tony kicked them out into the foyer so as to save his poor teammates from the sight when they woke later. The rest of their clothing was shed between the elevator doors and Tony’s bedroom, though Tony didn’t let The Jacket hit the floor, catching it with one hand and tossing it on the chair by the bed. Steve didn’t mention it, apparently too distracted by Tony’s naked body under his hands.

Steve’s palms skated over Tony’s chest and turned into lightly scratching fingernails when they hit his belly. Tony shuddered, letting his eyes drift shut. The hands fell to his hips and started guiding him backwards. When the backs of his thighs hit the mattress, Tony let himself fall flat on his back, then opened his eyes, grinning up at Steve. Steve returned the smile, though his was half-stunned and somewhat disbelieving, then he crawled forward over Tony, resting his elbows on either side of Tony’s face and kissing him silly. Their cocks rubbed together and Steve gasped against Tony’s mouth.

It was seeming increasingly likely that Steve might actually be able to make him come from kissing alone, and Tony didn’t want their fun to end there, so he pulled back and caught Steve’s eye. “What do you want?”

He didn’t expect that question to be a stumper, but Steve stilled, stared, and opened and shut his mouth a few times. He didn’t look nervous, or like he was regretting this, he looked like he was trying to make up his mind about something. “It’s okay. You can ask for anything,” Tony assured him. Maybe he was into something weird and afraid to say it. “I’m flexible.” He shot Steve a wink and got a chuckle in return. The laugh pushed the uneasy tension out of Steve’s shoulders.

“No, it’s not that. I know what I want. I just think _you_ should know that I’ve never done this before.” He was so matter-of-fact about it, it took Tony a moment to process what he was saying.

“You mean… you’ve never been with a guy, or -?”

“No. I’ve never had sex at all.”

Now it was Tony’s turn to gape. And then panic. “Shit, Steve, that’s kind of a - uh - thing. A big deal. Don’t you want… don’t you want someone who…”

“I want you.” He oozed confidence and it was making Tony’s head spin. It made a weird kind of sense that Steve was a virgin - Tony had certainly never seen him dating anyone. And that was fine in concept, but what was blowing Tony’s mind was the thought that Steve wanted Tony to be his first. He’d never been anyone’s first. He was pretty sure he’d been one girl’s one hundredth, if what she’d tweeted the next morning had been accurate, but this seemed special. Special in a way that Tony wasn’t.

“Steve…”

Steve leaned forward until his lips were against Tony’s ear, his fingers trailed over the side of Tony’s neck, sending tremor after tremor down Tony’s spine. “I want you. I’d want you if it were my first or my fiftieth. I like you, Tony Stark, and I’m desperate to know what it feels like to be inside you.”

“Well, shit,” Tony choked out. “When you put it that way.”

“Is that okay?” It was the first time since the balcony that Steve had let a little uncertainty into his voice, and Tony ran his palms soothingly over Steve’s sides, pulling him in for another kiss before replying.

“Of course. God Steve, I’d love that. But shouldn’t we, I don’t know, wait, uh, date first… or something?”

“Tony.”

“Mmm?”

“I’ve been waiting for ninety-five years.”

Tony let out a breath as Steve rubbed the evidence of his extreme patience against his thigh. “Okay. Right. Good. Now, then. Amazing. So you want to fuck me? What me to show you what I like?”

Steve dipped his face from Tony’s ear to run his teeth along Tony’s shoulder. “Yes, please. I’d like that a lot.”

“Okay, wow.” Tony pulled Steve’s face up to his own and kissed him breathless. “And you tell me, if you want to try something, or if you don’t like something, or anything, just make sure you say so, ok? Cause I want this to be good for you. It should be good, your first time.”

“Tony, relax,” Steve whispered.

Tony huffed. “Shouldn’t that be my line?”

“Well, you can try telling yourself to relax, but it usually doesn’t work very well.” Steve grinned down at him and Tony couldn't help but break into laughter.

“Okay, see now I’m going to have to try very hard to wipe that smile off your face.”

“Bring it on.”

And if that wasn’t the hottest thing he’d ever heard, he didn’t know what was. He ran his hand over Steve’s abs, then wrapped it around his cock and grinned when the smile was instantly replaced with the creased brow and slack jaw of a needy moan. With a gentle shove, he rolled them until Steve was spread out beneath him and he could straddle his hips. He leaned over to grab a bottle of lube from the bedside drawer and Steve took the opportunity to brush his fingers over Tony’s cock for the first time. Tony jumped a little at the sudden contact then smiled down at Steve. “Harder,” he whispered, and Steve’s grip tightened sending a jolt of pleasure up Tony’s spine. He rocked into the touch helplessly, his search for lube briefly abandoned. Then Steve’s other hand clenched on his hip before drifting towards Tony’s ass and his original goal snapped back to the forefront of his mind with redoubled intensity.

Tony popped the top of the bottle and pulled Steve’s hand away from his cock. Steve watched, eyes wide, while Tony spread lube over Steve’s fingers. “I assume your super-serum-ness means you’re immune to all things transmittable?” Tony asked, guiding Steve’s hand around his hip. Steve nodded. “Do you want a condom anyway?” Steve shook his head. His breath caught as Tony brushed their joined hands over his ass. “I like it slow and teasing,” Tony said, leaning forward to run his tongue over Steve’s chest, to lick at his nipple.

 _“Fuck,”_ Steve bit out. Tony guided Steve’s finger to his hole, urging him to push past the rim, and Steve did so, agonizingly slowly.

“Yeah, like that.” Tony rocked into the sensation, dropping his hand away and letting Steve take over. Steve’s movements were tentative but eager, easing his way in. His eyes stayed glued to Tony’s face, breath hitching every time he made Tony moan, focused on finding the best ways to take Tony apart.

When he was loose and slick and losing the glorious sensation of pressure, Tony urged Steve to give him more and a second finger joined the first. He could feel Steve gain confidence as he worked Tony open and Tony encouraged it, moaning when Steve found his prostate and rocking his hips into the sensation. Steve added a third finger on his own and Tony had to plant his hands on Steve’s chest and breathe through it, the stretch an unbearable pleasure.

It wasn’t long before Tony couldn’t take the tease of it anymore, feeling Steve’s cock jump, eager but patient, against the inside of his thigh. He brushed Steve’s hand away, then offered him the bottle of lube. “You ready? Get nice and slick for me.”

Steve's eyes flickered shut as he wrapped his hand around his cock and stroked the lube along it. “Tony,” he whimpered.

“Yeah, I’ve got ya.” Tony wrapped one hand around Steve’s wrist to ground himself, then shifted his hips forward until he could feel the blunt pressure of Steve’s cock. He slid down slowly, revelling in the near-painful stretch that burst into breath-stealing pleasure as he settled fully on Steve’s lap.

“Oh my god,” Steve choked out, looking for all the world like he no longer had any idea which way was up, or what his last name might be.

Tony grinned, enjoying how wrecked Steve looked already, until he rocked his hips and the sensation set his eyes rolling back in his head. He wasn’t Iron Man for nothing, and he put his well-earned leg strength to good use, rising up until the head of Steve’s cock caught on his rim, then sliding back down again until they were both panting, whimpering messes.

Tony picked up the pace and Steve’s fingers tightened on his thighs, forming little divots in Tony’s skin, his nails going white with the pressure. “Ah, fuck, you feel so good,” he groaned.

He was holding back, and doing a remarkable job. Tony took pity on him. “You can come. Come on, I want it. Give it to me, Steve.” Steve responded by bracing his feet on the mattress and pumping up into Tony as he slid down. His eyes squeezed shut and his grip got tighter and tighter until he was crying out and holding Tony against him so tightly, he couldn’t have moved if he wanted to, pulsing deep inside him.

“Oh yeah, fuck, that’s so hot.” He ran his thumb along Steve’s bottom lip, letting out a shaky breath as Steve relaxed his hold. He brushed along the edge of Steve’s teeth shivering at the contrast of the warm wet heat of his lip and the sharp edges. He moved to slide off, about to ask if he could come in Steve’s mouth when the hands on his thighs tensed again, stilling him.

“If you want to - I uh, it won’t be long,” Steve said.

“Wha -” Tony could feel Steve’s dick twitch back to life. “Shit,” he choked out, rocking his hips forward and revelling in Steve’s happy sigh. “Praise be to science.” He tried very hard not to think about the fact that his dad had inadvertently superpowered Tony’s sex life before he was even born. He stuck to gentle movements even when Steve urged him into a faster rhythm. Eventually, when Tony continued to ignore Steve’s bossy, little thrusts, Steve huffed a breath out of his nose, wrapped an arm around Tony’s waist and suddenly he was lying on his back with Steve looming over him, still buried deep in his ass. “Jesus Christ.”

Steve chuckled, then pulled back and slid forward again and _fuck_ that was the spot right there. Tell-tale pleasure was building in Tony’s core, but it wasn’t quite enough so he grabbed one of Steve’s hands, still slick from earlier, and guided it to his cock. Steve smiled, his eyes going wide as he watched Tony react to the touch. “Like that?” he asked softly.

“Little harder, _yeah._ I won’t be long if you keep fucking me like that, Steve.”

Steve twisted his palm over the head of Tony’s cock as he pushed deep and Tony smacked his hands above his head and took two handfuls of the pillow behind him to give him something to hold on to. He was pretty sure he was babbling nonsense, but he was past being able to take control of anything. Steve’s breath was coming in short pants, his face dipped down near Tony’s shoulder. Tony dropped the pillow and wrapped his arms around Steve’s back, digging his nails in and arching his back up to get just the right angle until, like a gunshot, his orgasm tore through him.

Steve’s hand stilled, but he kept fucking him through it while Tony moaned and writhed, wave after wave of almost too intense pleasure crashing into him. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, hold on, give me a second, fuck.” Steve pulled out and grinned, clearly chuffed to have taken Tony apart so effectively. “Stop looking so damn pleased with yourself,” Tony joked, smacking a palm against Steve’s chest.

“Stop looking so damn pleased, and I’ll stop,” Steve quipped back.

“Oh god, you’ll be the death of me.” Tony arched his back and stretched out his toes. He was starting to feel a bit sore and fucked out, but he had something left in him still. “You can go again?”

Steve nodded. “I don’t have to, but…”

Tony pulled him down and kissed him hard and filthy. “But you want to. Come on, I’m all yours, cowboy. Take what you want.” Steve shuddered from head to foot, then, blushing a little, guided Tony up to his knees, then spun him around so he had both hands braced against the wall, over the headboard, and Steve pressed up against his back. “Well.”

“Is this okay?” Steve whispered into the back of Tony’s neck, the words dripping down his spine and bringing a shiver with them.

“God, yes. I - _ugh -”_ Tony cut off as Steve pushed back inside him. He could feel every inch of him stretching him open, and the long press of his body from his lips on the back of his neck down to where their feet met, spread apart on the mattress. Steve’s knees nudged up inside Tony’s, spreading him wider, then he began fucking into him in earnest. Tony’s cock was done, checked out, thank you and good night, but his body still gave a valiant effort at waking it up again every time Steve’s cock brushed over his prostate. He drifted in the post-orgasmic pleasure haze that Steve only redoubled with every thrust.

Tony didn’t know how long it took, lost in the endless rush of sensation, his hands eventually giving out so he was pressed against the wall with Steve half-holding up him, half crumpling himself. Finally, Steve’s grip around his waist tightened almost painfully, and his hips stuttered forward. His teeth dug into Tony’s shoulder as he spilled himself deep inside Tony for the second time. As one, they slid down the wall and collapsed on the bed in a sweaty, sated heap.

“Well,” Tony panted out, trying to blink cogent thought back into his brain. “Guess, you’ll want a cigarette after that.” Tony laughed at his own joke but cut off when Steve’s arm wound around his waist and hauled him against his chest. Steve furrowed his fingers in Tony’s hair and held him close. It was wonderfully, terrifyingly intimate. Tony found Steve’s heartbeat and burrowed his face into the spot where it was loudest.

“I don’t know.” He could hear the smile in Steve’s voice. “I think I may have satisfied that craving. For now.”

Tony shivered at the promise in his words. He breathed in deep. The scent of smoke had faded, replaced with the tang of sweat and sex. Instead of the crackle of burning tobacco, Tony could feel the heat radiating off of Steve’s flushed skin from head to foot. Nothing would ever compare to that.

“Thank you,” Steve whispered against the top of Tony’s head.

“Thank you? What are you thanking me for? I didn’t do anything.”

Steve shrugged, his fingers dancing over Tony’s bare back. “For being you, I guess. For giving me a chance.”

“Wow. That’s the first time anyone’s been pleased I was me,” Tony quipped, chuckling to himself. But Steve’s arms tightened around his middle and his lips pressed into Tony’s hair.

“I love that you’re you.”

Tony shifted around to get better settled, trying to will the confetti rockets going off in his stomach to calm down. Loving that Tony was Tony was an awful lot like straight up loving Tony. It was nicer to hear, and less scary, than he thought it would be. He turned to press his cheek to Steve’s chest and caught sight of a puddle of leather on the chair in the corner. “Can I have The Jacket?” he asked before his brain caught up with his mouth.

“What?”

“Not like, have have, just, when you’re not smoking in it, could I like keep it here so I can, uhh, yeah that’s getting weird. Nevermind.” Tony broke off as he realized he was going to finish that with _keep it here so I can smell it whenever I want._

Steve followed his line of sight to where the jacket lay. “You like it?”

Tony sighed. Well, he’d already made a fool of himself multiple times today, might as well own it. “I like the way it smells. Like smoke and you.”

“Oh.”

“Sorry, that’s weird.”

“No! I’m, uh…” Steve shifted again and Tony felt something poke into his hip. He pushed himself up on his elbows and looked down at Steve. He was as red as a tomato. “I like the idea of you wearing it.”

Tony grinned, then slid his hips over so Steve’s resurging erection had soft skin to brush against. Steve sighed, eyelids flickering. “I can tell.”

“I just -” Steve swallowed. “I like all that kind of stuff. Wearing my clothes and going on dates and… stuff.”

“Steve. Did you just come in my ass twice, and _now_ you’re asking me if I’ll go out with you?”

Steve’s eyes flicked away to the side and his fingers drummed a nervous pattern on Tony’s hip. “I guess so.”

Tony dropped his elbows and collapsed onto Steve’s chest, forcing out a surprised _umph._ “You’re adorable. Now shut up, I need a nap and you make an amazing pillow.” Steve was silent. Tony cracked an eye and tipped his chin up to see Steve staring at the ceiling, expression twisted unpleasantly. “You should sleep too. You’ll need your strength. I’m taking you out to dinner tonight.”

Steve’s face relaxed. The corners of his mouth twitched up. “Why would I need my strength for that?”

Under the guise of getting more comfortable, Tony brushed the back of his hand against Steve’s cock. “I’m going to wear The Jacket.” Tony watched Steve’s eyes go wide, then he grinned. Tony reached up, grabbed his cheek and pulled him in for a kiss. “I’m going to get addicted to you, Steve Rogers.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! <3


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